


Together Dreaming Instead

by Nicnac



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, cyrano de bergerac au, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22885249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicnac/pseuds/Nicnac
Summary: The happy ending excerpt from a Cyrano De Bergerac AU I have no intention of writing.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Together Dreaming Instead

**Author's Note:**

> Saretton on tumblr was talking about a [Cyrano de Bergerac AU](https://nicnacsnonsense.tumblr.com/post/190993468252/guys-i-did-a-thing) earlier, and y’all I got carried away again. Basic backstory here is Crowley is Cyrano, Aziraphale is Christian, and Anathema is Roxane. Crowley is in love with Aziraphale (obv) and Aziraphale has convinced himself he’s in love with Anathema because of internalized homophobia. The turning point in the story is when Anathema turns Aziraphale down in favor of Newt and Aziraphale realizes he’s actually rather relieved and maybe he wasn’t all that into her after all. Then Anathema points out all the things Aziraphale has been saying to her and writing to her (words that he is getting from Crowley) sound like they’re actually intended for someone other than her. Aziraphale does some thinking and concludes that Crowley is in love with someone, which is problematic because Aziraphale is actually in love with Crowley. Anyway, I wrote the very end scene where they finally get together because I’m Azcrow trash and have no self-control. Also important to note that dreams are a major theme in Crowley’s work as Cyrano in this AU.
> 
> Cross posted from tumblr.

“What brings you to my humble abode, angel?” Crowley had sprawled out in his usual position on the settee, and Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat. The sinewy beauty and easy grace of the man – how had he been so blind as to never notice it before? How was he supposed to go on now that he did? How was he supposed to listen to Crowley call him angel in that tone of casual fondness without losing all control over himself and doing something that would ruin their friendship forever?

“Aziraphale?” Crowley prompted.

Aziraphale shook himself and took a seat in the armchair he always sat in, the one he’d come to think of as his in the back of his mind. “My apologies; I was lost in thought for a moment,” he said. “I stopped by because I spoke with Miss Device yesterday afternoon.”

Crowley tensed. It was a subtle movement, but Aziraphale was watching too closely to miss it. He assumed it was out of concern for Aziraphale; the meeting yesterday had not been one they had anticipated, so Crowley had been unable to help Aziraphale prepare for it. “How did that go?”

“She informed me that while she values our friendship and is flattered by and appreciates the overtures I’ve made of late, she bears no romantic feelings toward me and has instead decided to accept the suit of Newton Pulsifer.”

“I’m sorry,” Crowley said, genuine regret lacing his voice. “I know you love her.”

“That’s the funny thing,” Aziraphale said, and in the light of a new day it did seem funny. One of those casual anecdotes about an embarrassing moment some years past and oh, wasn’t I foolish? “I don’t love her; I don’t think I ever did. That is, I certainly return her sentiments regarding our friendship, but beyond that my infatuation stemmed more from the idea of her as the sort of person I ought to be in love with than any genuine feeling.”

“It certainly seemed genuine enough,” Crowley remarked archly. A fair enough attitude as he as certainly suffered the brunt of Aziraphale’s misguided infatuation.

“It seemed so to me as well, but I have a rather marvelous gift for self-deception I’m discovering. Though I suspect deep down part of me must have known, which is why I failed so abysmally at expressing it.” He was quite certain of that in fact. Because looking at Crowley now Aziraphale felt he could write sonnet upon sonnet, pages and pages and pages of love letters. He would go on his knees before Crowley and spill his heart out in hundreds of thousands of eloquently-spun words if he thought it would do any good.

Aziraphale sighed. “It all worked out for the best, I suppose, and I do wish the two of them happiness. I very much appreciate all the help you’ve given me throughout this endeavor, regardless of how it ended.”

“Of course,” Crowley said easily. “I’d do anything for you angel, just say the word.”

Aziraphale’s smile faltered for a moment, but he reclaimed it by forcing himself to take Crowley’s offer in the congenial spirit it was offered and to ignore how differently Crowley might feel if he knew of Aziraphale’s unnatural desires. “Thank you. And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Really, don’t play coy. When we were speaking yesterday Miss Device pointed out how most of the things you wrote for me to give her actually sounded as though they were written with someone else in mind entirely. You’re in love.”

Crowley bolted up in alarm. “That’s not—I didn’t— Don’t be angry ange— Aziraphale. Nothing has to change; I just—“

“Don’t be absurd, Crowley. Of course I’m not angry. Well, perhaps a little hurt you didn’t think to mention that you’d fallen in love, but I understand some people finds these kinds of things difficult to talk about. I don’t hold it against you. As for nothing changing…” Aziraphale found he could no longer stand to look at Crowley, so ducked his head and watched his hands gently wringing in his lap. “Things should change. I read everything you wrote and heard all the words you said; it’s clear how deeply you feel for this woman. You should tell her— no, I _insist_ that you tell her how you feel. There’s no way she’ll turn you down with how beautifully you express yourself. I realize my experience with Miss Device might not be exactly confidence-building in that regard, but I’m sure your lady will be able to sense the genuineness of your feelings. And of course if there’s anything I can do to help, I—“

Crowley kissed him.

Aziraphale barely had time to register what was happening before Crowley pulled away again. At some point he must have risen from the settee and was now knelt on the ground in front of Aziraphale, gazing upon him as earnestly reverent as any man at worship.

Aziraphale felt like he’d been hit by a runaway carriage. All those lines, all the little clues to the identity of the woman Crowley loved that Aziraphale had seen, but had been unable to puzzle out. They were all about him. “You’re in love with me,” he breathed.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Crowley placed his hands on Aziraphale’s knees and pulled them away again, as light as a butterfly. When Aziraphale didn’t protest, Crowley set them back down, his long fingers curled tight as though he feared Aziraphale might bolt any second. “I meant what I said. Nothing has to change. Just let me stay by your side as your friend. Let me stay in your life. All I’m asking for is just the smallest, most insignificant crumb of you, and I swear to you I will never—“

Aziraphale kissed him.

Crowley seemed too shocked at first to respond, but Aziraphale continued the kiss until Crowley, tentatively at first and then with more and more fervor, returned the gesture. Aziraphale straightened back up, gently guiding Crowley along with him until they were both in the chair with Crowley astride Aziraphale’s lap. Crowley’s hands were fisted in Aziraphale’s shirt as he desperately tried to pull them even closer together. Aziraphale’s own hands were resting on Crowley’s shoulders, but after a minute he daringly reached up to run one through Crowley’s fine fire-strand hair. Crowley whined into Aziraphale’s mouth. He broke the kiss and buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck, ripping his glasses off and tossing them across the room to do it.

Aziraphale held Crowley in his arms, one hand still gently carding Crowley’s hair, and marveled at the turn his life had taken. An hour ago this was something he believed he would never have. A day ago this was something he had never even knew he wanted. And now here he was. At that exact moment he decided that the world was wrong about these feelings. How could they be anything but good and right when he felt so blessed?

Crowley mumbled something into Aziraphale’s neck. “What was that?” Aziraphale asked. “I didn’t quite catch it.”

Crowley turned his head slightly. “I said, is this real?”

“ _Crowley_ ,” Aziraphale said, his voice choked with emotion. He urged Crowley up to look at him and, oh, there was the reason for the glasses. Because Crowley’s eyes were so expressive. There was so much love there, Aziraphale felt he was drowning in it. And alongside the love there was hope, cautious and terrified, but hope.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale repeated. “My darling. My dearest. My closest and truest companion. My love, my light, my joy. My heart’s only.” Aziraphale watched as with each endearment the hope in Crowley’s eyes brightened. Crowley had gifted Aziraphale with so many beautiful words, and though Aziraphale hadn’t always listened as closely as he should have, he’d heard them all. And now it wa time he shared some of his own with Crowley. He leaned forward and spoke directly into Crowley’s ear:

> “I confess this to you now, my dear,
> 
> The strangest truth I have.
> 
> Because you have always seen more clear,
> 
> Than I myself ever have.
> 
>   
> I feel the warmth of you in my arms.
> 
> You scent is far too dear to be faked.
> 
> I wish to keep you here safe from all harms,
> 
> And to always bestow upon you more love than I take.
> 
> The beauty of your eyes–”

Here Crowley made a noise of protest. Aziraphale hushed him and continued.

> “The beauty of your eyes,
> 
> Burnt amber in the light,
> 
> Is far greater than imagining could provide.
> 
> My mind would never get it right.
> 
> These sensations are far too vivid,
> 
> For this to be a dream.
> 
> But the joy here is far more fervid,
> 
> Than I have ever experienced in reality.
> 
> I no longer know what is true,
> 
> And would not care if I did.
> 
> For either I find myself here with you,
> 
> Or we lie together dreaming instead.”

For a long moment Crowley said nothing, and Aziraphale began to get nervous. “I know it’s not as good as the ones you wrote. Some of the rhymes were dreadful and I’m sure the meter was all wrong and—“

Crowley gently cupped Aziraphale’s face. “I think you’re right. This is too perfect to be anything but a dream.” He kissed Aziraphale, long and slow and deep. “So let’s never wake up.”


End file.
